


M'ama, non m'ama

by shushu_yaoi_lj



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: "kiss" prompts, Anal Sex, Crack, Different ways to say "I love you" prompts, Fluff, M/M, Smut, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25588828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shushu_yaoi_lj/pseuds/shushu_yaoi_lj
Summary: Collection of ficlets for the "I love you" and "kiss" prompts, plus other small one-shots.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 91
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a series of ficlets I posted on Tumblr for the "I love you" prompts list that you can find [ here ](https://llamapyjamas.tumblr.com/post/624864146994954240/the-way-you-said-i-love-you).  
> The title is the Italian for "he loves me, he loves me not" (the game you play with daisies to determine if someone loves you).  
> The first, second, fifth, sixth and seventh ones are Teen and up, the third is Mature.

"I love you prompt" 27 – A taunt, with one eyebrow raised and a grin bubbling at your lips.

Snow has discovered Nutella.

I’m quietly drinking my cup of earl grey, munching on a custard cream and reading the news on my phone and he’s licking chocolate spread off his toast.

He’s fucking licking it off like a toddler would. I would like to find it disgusting, but a part of me thinks it’s hot, even quite cute.

Crowley, he’s going to be the death of me…

Still, old habits die hard, so I feel the need to say something about his appalling table manners.

“Snow, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re twenty-two years old, not two. Eat your breakfast; don’t lick it.”

He smiles and he’s made of trouble.

“Shut up, Baz. You were clearly enjoying the show.”

It’s a good job I haven’t had blood yet, the blush would ruin my perfect composure.

“I most certainly am not. In fact, I’m appalled.”

He looks at me with a cheeky grin as he dips his finger in the Nutella jar. I let out a horrified gasp, as he starts licking it, rolling his tongue around his fingertip in an obscene way.

“You like what I can do with my tongue, just admit it,” he says and I swallow loudly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“You certainly didn’t mind yesterday evening. Nor this morning,” he says, “just admit it, you love it. You love me.”

I clear my throat (and shift on the chair, because my trousers are suddenly becoming quite uncomfortable), then I raise an eyebrow and give him the most detached glare of my repertoire. But then I feel his bare foot sliding over mine, sneaking under my trousers and I can feel a grin bubbling at my lips.

“I may be irretrievably in love with you,” I admit and then I add, “you absolute disgrace.” For good measure.

He leans in for a kiss and he tastes like chocolate. I think I’ll have to drag him back to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love you” prompt 15 - Loud, so everyone can hear

I open the door to our flat and I freeze.

“Surprise!” they all shout at me.

My whole family, crammed into our tiny living room.

My father looks horrified; Daphne has a sweet smile on her face, my little brother in her arms, and Mordelia seems to be enjoying herself too much (she’s plotting, I can tell). Fiona is whispering something in Simon’s ear while Shep is sitting on Bunce’s lap on the armchair. The twins are nowhere in sight, shit.

“Surprise indeed. Snow, can I please have a word with you?” I ask and he looks petrified as he follows me into the kitchen.

“What the fuck is this?” I whisper angrily at him.

“A surprise birthday party,” he answers, but it sounds more like a question.

“You know I hate this kind of shit!” I try to keep my voice down. There’s silence coming from the living room; they’re clearly eavesdropping.

“I spoke to Fiona and she suggested it!” Simon says defensively.

“Shhh, lower your voice, you oaf! Since when are you taking advice from my evil auntie?”

I hear a loud crash from our bedroom. The twins. Fuck!

“I just wanted this to be special for you,” he says out loud, clearly ignoring my request.

“And I just wanted to spend my birthday with you!” I shout, throwing caution to the wind.

“Baz, you’re a dickhead!” he yells.

“And you’re a moron!” I reply, raising my voice.

“I fucking love you! I just wanted your family to be here, because I wanted to ask you to bloody marry me, you plonker!” he shouts.

I look at him and his cheeks suddenly turn the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen.

“Simon, you’re a disaster,” I whisper, bringing him closer and sliding my fingers in his curls, “but I love you too.”

“Is that a yes, then?” he asks, circling my waist with his warm hands.

“Fuck, yes!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I love you" prompt 29 – Slowly, the words dripping from your tongue like honey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's smutty!

I wake up feeling his tail coiling around my thigh, pulling me impossibly closer to him. I can feel him against my back, warm and solid. His hands are already under my top, brushing against my nipple, then sliding down and cupping my hardening dick.

I open my eyes and the room is still dark. It must be the middle of the night. I look at the alarm clock and it’s flashing 2:46.

“Simon, you ok?” I mumble, groggy and aroused. The best possible combination.

“Need you,” he just mutters against my skin, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck. He doesn’t even take my top off, he just pulls my trousers down and throws them on the floor. I’m not wearing any pants, because he likes it if I sleep like this, if I’m ready for him to take whenever he wants me.

Sometimes he has a bad dream and he wakes up panicking and he needs to feel me to calm down. Other times he just lies awake for ages and he needs an orgasm to finally wind down enough to relax and fall asleep. And sometimes he just wakes up in the middle of the night with the burning need to fuck me hard. Or to make love to me, slowly and tenderly, taking his time. I love all of it. I love every single way he has to make me his.

I hear the sharp sound of his drawer opening and closing, then the click of the lube and his finger is inside me before I can even turn and kiss him. He lifts my leg and takes his time preparing me, languidly stroking my cock as I gasp and whimper, my mind still foggy with sleep.

“Simon…I’m ready; come on,” I encourage him and he smiles against my skin. When he finally slides inside me, I let out a low moan. I love the feeling of being filled by him, warming me up from the inside as his hot hands map every inch of my skin.

“I love you,” he whispers in my ear. Slowly, the words dripping from his tongue like honey.

“I love you too,” I say, moaning his name as I come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kiss" prompt "Bloodstained kisses" from the list that you can find [ here ](https://llamapyjamas.tumblr.com/post/625177496434917376/kiss-prompt-list).  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [ Fool of a Book Wyrm ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeli85/pseuds/Fool%20of%20a%20Book%20Wyrm)

Moving in with Baz has been easier than I expected. I thought we would end up fighting a lot, especially because I’m messy and loud and he’s exactly the opposite, but it’s been a surprisingly smooth transition.

Penny says it’s because we were practically living together anyway. He was spending the night at our place most of the time and when Fiona was away, I used to go to his place (mainly to have really loud sex, which was well nice).

There’s only one thing that we’re struggling with and that’s the blood issue.

I was shaving the other day and I got distracted and accidentally cut my chin. It was not a major thing, just a tiny spot of red blooming on the white shaving foam. But Baz was brushing his teeth next to me and his eyes opened wide, his nostrils flaring. He left the room with vampire speed, shouting at me to be more careful.

It’s not really my fault if I’ve never learnt how to shave properly. No one’s ever taught me. Well, Baz has after that incident.

Then last week I was chopping veg for a stir fry and I accidentally cut my thumb. Baz was out of the flat before I could even turn and ask him to pass the kitchen roll. Then he called me on my mobile to check if I was still alive or if he needed to call an ambulance.

I’ve tried to tell him a million times that I trust him and that I’m ok with him drinking my blood. I actually find it sexy. But every single time he says no, that he’s not an animal and won’t feast on his boyfriend.

And now we’re stuck in a lift. We were on our way to visit Penny and Shep in their new flat, but the building is old and the sodding lift broke down. It’s just the two of us and my lip is bleeding, because I’ve accidentally bitten it when the fucking thing stopped with a jump. And Baz is panting, possibly about to hyperventilate.

“Baz, calm down,” I say in a soothing tone.

“I’m going to **Get well soon** your mouth Snow,” he says getting his wand out of the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers trembing. I snatch it away before he can even grab it.

“No, you’re not. We’re going to talk about this and then you’re going to lick the blood off my lips.” My therapist would be proud. Licking part aside.

“You’re fucking out of your mind, give me my wand back,” he says panicking.

“Baz, we both know you’re not going to turn me and that you’ve wanted to taste my blood for absolute ages,” I say stepping closer to him. He tries to move away from me, his back hitting the wall.

“I love you and I trust you,” I say as my fingers slide against his cheek, “and I want you do it. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It really turns me on…”

He licks his lips, his eyes focussed on my mouth.

“I love you, Simon…”

“I know you do and I’m asking you to lick the blood and then **Kiss it better**. How does that sound?” I whisper, my body pressed flush against his.

“You’re mad…”

“I’m mad about you,” our mouths are almost touching and then I hear him sigh and feel his cold tongue slowly tracing my lower lip, an obscene moan leaving his mouth. I close my eyes and just give in to the pleasure sparking across my skin, as he licks my lips clean and then sucks on them. I lean impossibly closer and my hands sink into his soft hair, kissing him hard and deep.

The lift suddenly comes alive and moves with a jolt; the doors open with a loud _ping_ after a few seconds. We’re both panting and incredibly hard as we step out of it.

“I think there’s a broom closet over there,” says Baz pointing at a small door at the end of the corridor.

I bite on my lower lip until the metallic taste of blood lingers on my tongue.

“Brilliant idea. Let’s go,” I say, taking his hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Kiss" prompt "24. Kisses for each year alive" from the list that you can find [ here ](https://llamapyjamas.tumblr.com/post/625177496434917376/kiss-prompt-list).  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [ Theawkwardbibliophile ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawkwardbibliophile/pseuds/Theawkwardbiblio)  
> This is actually something my parents used to do when I was little, so I based it on that.

Talking was not easy at the beginning. After America and after Watford.

Baz told me he loved me and I decided to believe him, to try again to be his boyfriend. Not a terrible one, this time.

Our therapists both said we needed to talk more, but it was hard.

We started small, with everyday things.

“Snow, you need to tidy up your room and stop leaving clothes on the floor.”

“I want to see you drink blood.”

Then we tried with more difficult things, the ones that had nearly broken us before.

“Simon, I wish you believed more in how much I love you. I can’t live without you.”

“When we go dancing and you leave your shirt open, there are tons of men ogling you and it makes me jealous. I want to punch them all!”

But the most intimate confessions always happen in the dark. When we’re lying in bed together, our bodies tangled, fingers running lazily on skin and voices low, almost a whisper.

That’s how I told him about the homes. About what it felt like to feel hungry and lonely and desperate most of the time. About missing Watford every summer. About missing him.

He told me about growing up feeling rejected, because he was a vampire and because he was gay. Feeling like no matter how brilliant he was, he was always going to be a disappointment.

And now he’s naked in my arms, he’s warmed up after having sex and he’s gently stroking my back, fingertips brushing against my skin, tracing delicate patterns.

“I miss my mother, especially before going to bed,” he whispers, “when we were at Watford, at least I used to visit her tomb in the evening. I never thought I would actually miss that, but I do.”

I hold him closer, interlacing our fingers and kissing his shoulder.

“I used to be afraid of the dark when I was little and she would keep me company until I fell asleep,” he says, “she used to give me year kisses.”

“What is that?” I ask, looking up at him. Merlin, he’s so beautiful.

“She would give me a kiss for each year I was alive. She started with my cheeks. When I turned three, she added a kiss on my forehead. At four, she started giving me a kiss on the nose and then the last birthday we celebrated together, she added a kiss on the palm of my right hand.”

“That sounds lovely,” I say, “five kisses before going to bed.”

“I’m sorry, I know you probably didn’t get any. I’m an idiot, sorry…”

I sigh and smile at him.

“You don’t need to apologise; you’re allowed to miss your mum.”

He looks deep in thought for a while, the light of the moon shining on his face. Then he looks at me and his fingers find my cheek.

“I always wondered where she would have given me my sixth kiss…”

I feel my heart breaking a bit when he says that. Because I’ve never had a mum, but I know what it feels like to miss someone like you’re missing a part of you. So I kiss his chest, just above where his heart is beating so softly that I can’t hear it. But I know it’s there.

“Maybe she would have kissed you here. Because you have a beautiful heart,” I say, feeling immediately like a sentimental sap.

But then he smiles at me and slides his fingers through my hair.

“Where would you kiss me?” he asks, almost a whisper.

So I kiss him where his mum used to, then my lips move down his neck and to his chest. I trace all the fingers of his left hand, then his wrist, before moving down to his belly button. My mouth reaches the inside of his thighs, then chastely presses a soft kiss on his dick. I ask him to turn and I leave a trail of kisses down his spine, stopping at the bottom, then go down his legs and finally reach his feet.

I lie down on my belly next to him and our lips finally meet, his tongue exploring my mouth as he moans softly into mine.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss prompt 18 – Wrist kisses from the list that you can find [ here ](https://llamapyjamas.tumblr.com/post/625177496434917376/kiss-prompt-list).  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is for [ Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire) .

_Snap_

I hear the noise of the elastic band being snapped against his wrist as soon as I open the door.

It was Penny’s idea (apparently, she read it somewhere online). Today was Simon’s first day at his new job and he was ridiculously stressed, constantly tugging at his curls and biting his lips bloody.

“Simon, you look a mess!” she said before he left this morning, “here, put this on and tug at it every time you feel too anxious.”

I was worried too. Even though it’s been nearly a year after we got back from America and we’ve all made so much progress, Penny and I still worry a lot when it comes to him. I’m so proud of him for completing his baking course and finding a job. For going out every single day and working his socks off. For not giving up on me.

But he’s still my Simon and he’s an absolute nightmare. His nerves sometimes get the best of him and he can crumble under pressure. But he lets me take care of him now. We have each other.

_Snap_

I wanted to collect him from work, possibly check on him during his lunch break, but he said he was not a toddler and didn’t need any of us to hold his hand. So, I’ve done my best to control my own anxiety and I’ve waited for him at my flat (Fiona’s away, thank Crowley). I waited and waited until the fucking doorbell finally rang. I think I ran to open the door with vampire speed, because Snow greets me with a startled expression.

_Snap_

“Baz, you ok?” he asks.

“Yes, what about you? How did it go?”

He comes in and tells me everything about his day; he’s tired but excited and his eyes are shining. We sit down on the sofa for a cup of tea and my fingers find his wrist. It’s red and slightly bruised and I feel my heart clenching in my chest.

“Simon…”

“I got a bit nervous today…” he says sheepishly.

I take the elastic off and kiss his wrist, softly and tenderly. I put all my love into this small kiss, because I want him to know how much I care.

“I love you, Baz.”

“I love you too,” I whisper.

Then I run a hot bath and sink in the tub with him. His wings are still spelt away, so I sit behind him and hold him in my arms. I wash his hair and his body and I can feel the tension easing off him. His muscles relax under my hands and he tilts his head to give me a kiss on the lips.

“You spoil me too much,” he says with a smile.

“Wait till we get in the bedroom,” I reply.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multi prompts: sports AU (cricket), strangers to lovers, “you had no idea, did you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is for [ Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire) .
> 
> Thanks for giving me a break from all my WIPs (which I cannot post yet and it’s driving me nuts).  
> Disclaimer: in spite of the fact that I've been living in the UK for nearly 10 years, I still know absolutely nothing about cricket.

“So, what are the rules?” Shep asks, sitting down on the grass next to me.

The sun is shining and it’s quite warm. Penny’s brought a picnic mat, but I’m just sitting on the grass, enjoying the sunshine on my face, the ground under my bottom. It’s the last cricket match of the season and Shep has finally managed to get an afternoon off from his part time job to join me and Penny.

“I have no idea,” I reply, shrugging.

“Simon!” Penny complains, “I’ve explained the rules to you a million times. You have dragged me here every single Sunday to watch the cricket matches. How on earth do you not know the rules?”

I know fuck-all about cricket. The match is not the reason why we’re here.

I’m here because of him.

I only know his first name: Baz.

We have a few courses together at uni (Greek, Latin and English literature) and from what I’ve gathered he’s a posh twat who likes to show off how much he knows about pretty much everything.

He’s been glaring at me the whole year during lessons, when our paths cross in the corridors, in the canteen and even in the halls of residence. His eyes are constantly on me and I want to know what he’s plotting. Because I’m sure he’s plotting something.

“Is it like a boring version of baseball?” asks Shep, readjusting his glasses.

“Yes,” I reply.

“No!” shouts Penny.

Baz is standing there, in the middle of the park, his white clothes making his legs look even longer and more elegant. His wavy hair is in a lose bun, but a few strands have escaped and are falling lazily on his cheeks.

He’s looking at me, again. I stare back.

“Baz, what the fuck are you doing?” shouts someone from his team (I assume so, at least, because they’re all wearing the same fucking white uniform – how can they even tell which team is which?)

“Shut up, Dev!” he shouts back.

The match goes on and on and we soon run out of snacks.

“How long can a match last?”

“Hours,” I reply.

“Actually, days,” Penny corrects me.

“Ok, I’m off. It’s been nice and all, but I have to study,” says Shep standing up.

“Me too,” says Penny and I wave at them as they head back to Watford Campus.

Baz doesn’t even break a sweat as the match goes on, but then they all randomly start clapping and they head off to the changing rooms. His head turns towards me and my eyes are glued to him, until he disappears behind his teammates.

I lie on the grass, looking at the clouds move by, thinking about what the hell I’m doing, waiting for him when I know full well that he will just go home with his friends, when his face suddenly appears above my head.

“Hey,” he says and he drops the red cricket ball on my chest.

“Ouch!” I complain, “bloody hell, why is it so heavy?”

He frowns.

“You had no idea, did you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“How was I supposed to know that your cricket ball is full of lead?!”

“Wait, you’re here every week. You haven’t missed a single match. I thought you loved cricket.”

I sit up and scratch the back of my head.

“I don’t even know the rules,” I admit, “that’s not why I’m here.”

“Why are you, then?” he asks, but my eyes go up to his straight away and I blush so hard that he simply says, “oh.”

“I’m Baz Pitch, by the way.”

“Simon Snow.”

“I could explain the rules to you, if you want,” he says, “if you pay for coffee, that is.”

“Okay,” I reply, and he offers me his hand.

There’s a moment of silence when I hesitate and then I take it. His palm is soft and cool. But then something happens, because I’m assuming that he’s offering me his hand to haul me up, so I pull and instead he leans forward. For some weird law of physics (Penny would probably say “it’s fucking gravity, Simon!”), he loses his balance and lands on me, his chest flush against mine, his arms around my head. Our noses are touching.

“Oops, sorry!” I say and the most amazing blush warms up his cheeks, making him lose his usual cold composure and making my mind wonder why it took me so long to realise that I actually fancy him. Really hard.

“Snow, what the fuck?” he says, pretending to be outraged.

I kiss the tip of his nose and his cheeks get even redder. I smile and pull him closer.

“So, tell me more about cricket.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are looove. Please don't try to explain cricket to me, many people have tried and failed.


	8. Happy birthday, Baz!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little standalone ficlet to wish Baz a happy birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is rated Teen and Up.

**Baz**

Sometimes I wonder if he loves me.

Okay, not just _sometimes_ , more like every bloody day.

I tell myself that he probably doesn’t, but then he looks at me in a certain way, blue eyes going fond and a smile tugging the corner of his beautiful lips. Or his fingers brush against mine and he doesn’t pull away. Sometimes he kisses me, when it’s just the two of us, hungry lips sending sparks through my veins.

I’ve known him for a decade, for the best part of my life, and he still manages to baffle me.

I don’t know why he’s still with me. I keep wondering if it’s out of pity. After America and then Watford.

I’ve told him that I love him. Not as well as I had planned. It just came out, one evening, as I was about to leave his flat and he looked particularly soft and vulnerable, like he was debating whether to ask me to stay.

“I love you,” I whispered, then felt like I was about to start fucking crying on his doorstep and just turned to leg it. Of course, Simon Snow being Simon Snow, he grabbed my wrist and spun me around like a bloody ballet dancer and kissed me like the world was about to end.

It was. About to end, that is.

Because I had poured my heart out to him and he wasn’t running away, nor breaking up with me. Just kissing me, tenderly, with gentle fingertips stroking my cheek and stubby fingers tugging at my hair.

“Stay,” he muttered, taking my hand and dragging me back inside. He slept with his head on my chest that night. I wonder if he was trying to hear my heartbeat.

And that was it.

No “I love you” back, but who cares?

He didn’t leave me.

He kissed me.

He asked me to stay.

I can die (?) happy.

But unfortunately, I have a brain that won’t stop working. The gears keep on turning and turning. The hamster runs like mad on that fucking wheel.

Does he love me back?

Will he ever?

Is he staying with me out of pity?

Maybe I should give him a way out. Something like: “Snow, you shouldn’t feel compelled to be with me just because I’m soft for you. Feel free to _adiós amigo_ me whenever you want. I don’t need your pity, cheers.”

But I can’t.

I love him too much to let him go.

I’m just going to be a coward and wait for him to be fed up and break my heart.

That’s a plan.

A shitty one, okay, but it’s still a plan. And I’m not good at plotting anymore. I’m out of practice.

It’s my birthday today. He forgot about it last year, but he had other more important stuff on his mind (namely, falling apart), so I didn’t get mad. Bunce reminded him in the evening and he sent me an apologetic text, saying that he was a terrible boyfriend.

I don’t have my hopes up this year either, but it’s fine.

I get up and have breakfast, checking my phone (nothing from Simon, oh well). Shep sent me a video message of himself singing the happy birthday song to me and I’m oddly touched. Fiona ruffles my hair and kisses my forehead on her way out.

“Happy birthday, boyo! I’m going to get you sozzled tonight!”

I was hoping of spending the night with my boyfriend, but at least I have a plan B if it all goes to shit.

I go to university and try to focus on my lectures, but I keep on checking my phone, like a bloody lovesick puppy.

Stupid, stupid Basilton.

I knock into him on my way out of my last lecture of the morning.

“Simon?” I ask and stare at him as he rubs his nose where he bumped against my chest.

“I was waiting for you,” he says sheepishly, “I wanted to take you out to lunch.”

“What?” I ask, surprised and trying not to smile like an idiot.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and taking me outside of the main building, then through the carpark, “you have two hours before your next lecture, right?”

“Yes, but how do you know?” I ask.

“Memorised your timetable,” he shrugs, but I can see his ears turning red and the freckles on his face disappear under a blush, “I just thought I’d surprise you.”

And surprise me he did.

He takes me to a small park just outside of campus and then we sit on a bench in the sun in a secluded area. It’s February but the air is not as cold as it should be. The first daffodils are starting to bloom, and the grass is peppered with purple and yellow crocus flowers.

“It’s nice here,” I say, like an eighty-year old lady.

“I made sandwiches,” Snow announces, opening his backpack and handing me something tightly wrapped in clingfilm.

“Were you afraid they would try to escape?” I ask, teasing him.

“Well, I’ve put very rare roast beef in yours, so it might…” he replies, winking at me.

Simon Snow just winked at me.

Someone please call Fireman Sam; I’m about to spontaneously combust.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says after a while, still munching on his lunch.

Silence.

I raise an eyebrow at him and just wait. I don’t want to spook him.

He clears his throat.

“I was doing a quiz to find out which house I would be in at Hogwarts,” Simon declares, tugging at his curls.

Not the statement I was expecting.

“Yes?” I say.

“And I ended up in Gryffindor,” he announces, his eyes locking with mine.

“That’s not a surprise,” I say, “I could have told you.”

“You see,” he puts his sandwich down and fiddles with the sleeves of his coat, then he huffs and takes my hand in his, “I was actually surprised.”

“You were?”

“I’ve been a proper coward lately,” he says, smiling timidly, “and I’ve been afraid for so long that I got stuck. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t say the things I wanted to get out.”

I swallow loudly and stare at him.

“Like what?” I ask, dreading that he’s going to break up with me.

Not on my birthday, please.

He smiles and I love him so much.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for so long,” he says, kissing my knuckles and I relax a bit, because he’s giving me that fond look that makes me melt.

“Tell me what?”

“That I love you, Baz.”

I think I’m going to die.

He leans forward and brings our lips together in a sweet and tender kiss, brushing his fingers gently against my cheek, making me feel like I’m about to break into a million pieces and he’s going to catch them all and put me back together.

He loves me.

Simon Snow loves me.

I realise that I’m crying when he starts kissing my cheek and whispering that he got me, that it’s okay, that he’s sorry for taking so long.

“I love you,” I say and it doesn’t matter that it comes out more like a chocked sob than a confession, because he’s laughing and he’s kissing me again and then he’s holding me so tight that I can hear his heart beating, so loudly, like a mad tambourine.

He loves me.

“I nearly forgot!” he says, his lips pressing against mine again, “happy birthday, Baz!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me a happy bunny.


End file.
